


There Was a Draft

by eratothemuse



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Smut, not safe for work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-17 23:31:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16983888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eratothemuse/pseuds/eratothemuse
Summary: Derekreallylikes how his jacket looks on you.





	There Was a Draft

**Author's Note:**

> This is a request for katythekitty who wanted Derek walking in to see the reader in his leather jacket and smut ensues. This is my first time writing Derek, so I hope you like it and that he’s written well!  
> \- Meg <3 xx

His text had told you to let yourself in. Even if Derek hadn’t told you to, you probably would have went inside anyway. After all, you had been in possession of a key to his loft for the last couple of months. Ever since you had become a central part of the group, or more accurately, the pack.

You liked to think that he had given you the key for more than just the simple need to get to him in an emergency. You liked to think that he cared for you as more than just a friend.

But you had always been one for dreaming.

You scrolled through the messages one last time as you closed the door to the loft behind you. Tonight was your weekly movie night with Derek. It had become a sort of tradition as your friendship blossomed, mostly due to your relentless badgering until he caved. In the end, movie night had become more than just spending time together. It was something to look forward to. Something to plan throughout the week, taking turns picking a movie that neither of you had seen before.

Tonight was his choice, which was why he was running late. Derek had told you the line at the video store was ridiculous today. You sigh as you take a look around the loft, shifting your feet to slide off your shoes by the door. You spot your target on the wall, moving towards it with purpose.

The one thing about Derek was that he kept his loft entirely too cold. Even in the summer, you could feel nothing but the brisk air blaring from the vents scattered here and there.

“It’s always too cold in here,” you grumble to yourself, turning the thermostat to a more comfortable temperature as you prepare for the wait. Roaming towards the table, you can’t help but notice the dark piece of clothing thrown haplessly over the back of a chair.

You weren’t surprised that Derek hadn’t taken his leather jacket. As previously stated: it was summer.

You’d worn it only once before. It had been raining and Derek had offered it to you as you ran from his car into your home. It had protected you from getting soaked, but the werewolf next to you had been a different story.

You smile at the fond memory, taking the cool leather into your hands before pulling it over your shoulders. Slipping your arms into the sleeves that are too long, you tug them up to scrunch around your wrists. You snuggle into it, enjoying the warmth it provides in the drafty loft.

You can’t help but notice how it encases you in a scent that can only be described as Derek. A clean smell that must be his shampoo wafts from the neckline of the jacket’s collar, mixing with the woody scent that seemed to follow Derek wherever he went.

You feel your lips twist into a smile as you seek out a mirror, wanting nothing more than to see how you look with the jacket wrapped around you. Finding one in the small bathroom of the loft, you turn, observing the hem that comes just below your butt, dwarfing you in comparison to the way it would hug Derek’s body. Still, you thought it looked good.

“(Y/N),” you hear a voice call from the other room, “I’m back!” Exiting the bathroom, you see Derek placing a plastic bag down on the table. He sifts through it, pulling out a receipt and what had to be his movie of choice for the night.

“Sorry it took so long,” he apologizes, popping open the DVD case to finger the disk inside it, “the line was just ridiculous and the lady in front of me- is that my jacket?” He’s stopped moving, hazel eyes slipping over your form as he slowly puts down the DVD.

“Yeah,” you flush, fingers playing with the sleeves that have slipped down your hands, “you know I always get cold in here, and I saw it so I put it on. I hope you don’t mind.”

Derek swallows, moving a step forward, “I don’t mind. I like you in it.”

“Really?” you tug it a bit closer to your body as he takes another step, the corner of his lips twitching upwards into a smirk as his eyes slide over you.

“Yes,” Derek stops, inches from you, “it makes you look like you’re mine.”

“Yours?” you squeak, feeling the heat spread from your cheeks to warm your ears. Derek nods, bringing his hand up to finger the collar of the jacket, gently tugging you a little closer to him.

“If you want to be,” he breathes, brow scrunching in a silent plea for you to feel the same as he does. You nearly laugh with how blind he is. How could it not be so completely obvious that you’ve loved him since the moment you met him?

“God, yes,” reaching up, you pull him down the final distance to meet your lips. Hands move to your waist, pulling you into a hard chest that contrasts the soft lips pushing against your own. Your fingers graze the base of his neck, slipping upwards to find purchase in his dark hair.

And in that moment, you know he’s wanted this just as much as you have. The burden of the nervousness and fear of rejection is lifted as lips collide, noses bumping in your effort to feel each other. To express how much you’ve needed him.

Derek leans into the kiss, deepening it with a nip at your bottom lip. The soft moan that sounds from your throat seems to move his hands down to grip the curve of your butt. You hadn’t thought he could bring you any closer, but when he squeezes you into him, you seem to mold into his body. The leather jacket suddenly feels too hot against the heat radiating between the two of you.

You’re glad when he pushes it off your shoulders, because you are certain you were on the verge of bursting into flames. It hits the floor with a flop, but neither of you care. Too occupied with getting more of each other. When his hands come to the hem of your shirt, you pull back.

“Am I going too fast?” Derek asks, breath fanning across your bruised lips as he searches your eyes with worry. You chuckle, reaching down to grip the bottom of your shirt.

“No,” and it’s ripped from your body, landing on the floor next to the jacket. His brows rise as he studies you, lips curling over his teeth appreciatively, “you’re going just fast enough.”

“Maybe we can go faster,” he growls as he tears his shirt over his head with just as much enthusiasm as you had. And suddenly, you’re in his arms, feet coming off the ground as you squeal in shock. Your giggles erupt through the loft as he throws you onto the bed.

“Derek!” you laugh when he crawls on top of you, smiling down as his hands press into the bed on either side of your waist. His eyes soften as he dips his head, beard tickling your neck as he draws a path of kisses across the skin there.

“I’ve wanted you for a while,” you admit, fingers gently tracing the landscape of his chest. Derek looks up, sending you an amused glance as he continues his trail down your chest, kissing the valley of your breasts as his hands slide behind your back. You feel the bondage that is your bra loosening with ease as he unclasps it, breath catching in your throat when his tongue licks across the top of a boob.

“I’ve wanted you for a while, too,” Derek grunts, pulling your bra off only to replace it with his hands. You pull him up into another kiss, feeling his fingers flick over a nipple as he palms your breast. Judging by the bulge in his jeans, he  _did_  want you.

And you’re done holding back. Done being gentle as you drown in your craving for him. Moving your hips, you grind against him despite the clothing that separates you. Derek groans, pushing back with just as much primal need.

You didn’t know how he had managed to get your pants off you so quickly, let alone shimmy off his own, but truly, you couldn’t care less. All that mattered was that he there, above you, making you feel needed and wanted and so much hotter than you’d ever thought could be possible in this drafty loft of his.

“ _Shit_ , Derek,” you whine as he sucks at your neck, fingers rubbing you through your panties. Hooking your fingers into his boxers, you tug them down. Derek shifts, helping you get them off before they disappear off the side of the bed.

To say you didn’t stare would be a flat out lie. You stared. Part of you struck silent at the reality that this was  _actually happening_  and the other part sparking with arousal and excitement.

Both parts had butterflies pounding the lining of your stomach.

Neither part kept you from reaching out to stroke him.

The low, guttural moan that came from his parted lips snapped you back into action, sending a warm heat flooding your abdomen with want. Slipping your thumb over his tip to spread the bead of precum there, you moved your hand downwards before repeating the movement. His hips stuttered, bucking into your hand gently as he whispered for you to continue.

You did, reveling at the feel of his length between your fingers as you stroked, Derek encouraging you with every gasp of breath. You licked your lips, wetting them as you leaned forward to lick from his base to the tip, taking it into your mouth only for him to pull you back by the hair.

“I need you,” Derek growled, surprising you with the glowing hue his eyes had turned, “Now.”

“Take me, then,” and he’s pushing you back to fall against the mess of sheets, fingers wrapping around your thighs as he pulls you towards him. He reaches off the bed to sift through his discarded jeans, finding his wallet and the condom inside. Tearing it open with his teeth, his eyes never leave yours as he rolls it down over himself.

You gasp as his claws rip off your panties, throwing the pathetic shreds of fabric to the side as you send him a half-hearted glare, “Hey!”

“I’ll buy you more,” Derek bends down, lips silencing your protest as he pulls your legs to wrap around him. You moan against his lips he pushes into you, rocking your hips gently to take more of him with each thrust.

The kiss is breaks with his shaky moan, hazed eyes searching your own for permission to move. A nod is all he gets, not trusting your voice to breathe let alone speak as you’re washed in pleasure.

With his first thrust your hands find purchase at his back, hips moving with his as you try to find a rhythm. It doesn’t take long before you’re sliding against him as if you’d done this a million times before. As if you had been meant to fit so perfectly together from the start.

Derek’s head falls to your neck, his grip on your thigh tightening as he brings you closer. Breathy moans of your name fill your ear along with other unintelligible things that even he doesn’t know what he’s saying in the throes of pleasure. You’re no better, writhing against him as you lose the rhythm you built, the only motivation to your movements becoming your immediate release.

“Ah, Derek! Yes,” you moan, feeling your head cloud as your whole body shivers against him, toes curling. You feel yourself stiffen wonderfully, clenching around him as he pounds through your orgasm, begging you to let go in your ear. You choke on your words, feeling your lungs shudder in your chest while all you can do is grip his shoulders for dear life.

He only becomes more desperate as you come undone beneath him, skin slapping against your own with abandon. His grip turns his knuckles white as he buries himself to the hilt, wet mouth latching against your neck in an attempt to control himself.

Derek pulls out slowly, moaning your name as he collapses above you. You hold him there, both of you breathing harshly in the aftermath of your lovemaking. Limbs de-tangle, slow and awkward with the tingly numbness that still electrifies your bodies. He rolls to the side, pulling you into his chest as he takes a deep breath.

You tilt your head, grinning at him as your fingers trace along his chest, “Well, I’m not cold anymore.”

Derek laughs, teeth showing as his gaze slips to yours, “You’re always complaining about the draft, (Y/N).”

“If you do this every time I complain about being cold, I might just have to complain more often.”


End file.
